


Being an Avatar Sucks

by Gia_my_roommate



Series: Written by someone who has not listened to TMA [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack, Jon can’t read, M/M, Peter Lukas is a simp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gia_my_roommate/pseuds/Gia_my_roommate
Summary: When Jon discovers he can no longer read, he and Martin work together to learn what shitty powers each entity gives their avatars.1. The Eye2. The Corruption3. The Stranger4. The Lonely5. The Lightless Flame
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Written by someone who has not listened to TMA [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729438
Comments: 24
Kudos: 161





	1. The Eye

Elias sighed, looking down at his stack of mail.

He recognized the hand writing on 33 of the letters to be Peter’s.

He had told Peter many times to stop sending letters, they were a waste. 

Elias tossed them all in the bin.

Elias’s phone began to vibrate, and Elias debated answering. 

“Hello Peter,” Elias sighed. He’d been doing that a lot, ever since becoming an avatar of the eye about 50% of his breath was wasted on sighing.

“Did you get my letters yet?” Peter asked

“Yes Peter. All 33 if them. And no, I don’t need you to read them out to me or tell me what was on them. I already threw them out.” Elias said.

“What about-“

“Yes, I got your texts as well. I don’t know why you bother, you know I can’t read.”

There’s a pause, and Elias doesn’t need to Know to know what Peter is about to say.

“I refuse to interpret emojis, Peter.”   
. . . 

At first, Jon just thought he needed glasses or something. After all, you can’t just forget out to read! 

“Martin,” Jon called “I can’t quiet figure this word out. Do you know it?”

Martin blinked at the page Jon was showing him.  
“Jon, can you try to pronounce this word?” He asked

“I wouldn’t know where to began. I think this statement is in a foreign language or-“

“Jon,” Martin interrupted with a look of concern “That’s the word statement.” 

Jon stood up. This issue had been worsening as his connection to the Eye had undesirably strengthened.

“Elias, I can no longer read statements! What the fuck?” Jon asked.

Jon than eyed the very fully waste bin, which had dozens of unopened letters. 

“Oh, that’s splendid news. You must be further along than even I anticipated.”

“Why can’t I fucking read?!” Jon snapped

“Have you not noticed anything strange when reading the statements? Well, when you could read those statements.” Elias said, taking out a match book. “Or considered why every avatar of an entity acts like they are not sane?”

“Because they are psychopathic murderers, and it’s pointless to try and understand the insane.” Elias took out a match. 

“Well, think of this as a new pet project. Figure out why you can’t read anymore.” Elias lit the match and threw it in the trash can.

“Now get out of my office.” Elias said, casually watching the letters burn. 

Jon left, but only because the plastic bin would be aflame soon and Jon did not desire to deal with that.


	2. The Corruption

Jon paced the office. Martin sat two teas down on the desk.

“Alright, so is it reversible?” Martin asked finally.

“I don’t know! Elias wouldn’t tell me anything.” 

“So nothing new than. Any hints at least?” Martin asked and Jon thought.

“He mentioned that there was something I should have noticed before. With the other avatars.” Jon had an idea “We should start from the beginning. Get me all the statements on Jane Prentiss.”

“Good thing they’re recorded, I suppose.” Martin joked, Jon did not look amused “Ah, sorry.” 

“It’s...fine.” 

. . . . .

Jane Prentiss sometimes wished she had a normal mental break, like sought a new career or moved cities. 

Not that she didn’t just love being covered in bugs, that was really cool. 

She loved watching the life leave peoples eyes as she killed them.

Or she would have loved it, had becoming an avatar of the corruption not taken away the trait that made her popular in college.

The big mountain boy stayed in his home, unable to leave for a long while. It was such fun playing with him.

And she felt rather proud of the worms in the walls.

She did feel herself gag a little when she realized Jon had touched one.

It was different when she was touching them, but with other people it was just so icky. 

The worst was when she was about to kill the little Archivist and his bisexual Chad.

Jane felt vomit come up her throat as she watched Tim and Jon get eaten by worms.

She realized the irony, she really did. However she could just imagine not liking the feeling of the worms. The gross sensation of the slimy skin, the wriggle. 

She could feel it in the back of her mouth.

She was a bit happy for the release of death when it came, throwing up was such a horrid experience. 

Jon and Tim were less pleased, as they were covered in worm scars and throw-up.  
. . .

“So what? All of the Avatars of the corruption are sickly?” Martin asked “They certainly throw up a lot.”

Jon nodded, wishing he could just read over the statements.

Martin had been re-reading statements as Jon had been forced to listen to his own recordings.

“Actually, hold on. Wait.” Martin said, looking at a particular statement. “This statement here. You hadn’t gotten to it. Apparently someone escaped an avatar of the Corruption when it stepped in dog poop.” 

“So they can’t handle gross things? Great. That explains nothing besides that the entities are confirmed sadistic.” Jon sighed

“Maybe you can learn braille? Or start all over with English?” Martin suggested 

Jon debated trying to stab his own eyes out.


	3. The Stranger

Jon sat in the archives at his desk, annoyed at the world, staring down a statement. 

He couldn’t read statements anymore, but he was so hungry he hoped that just staring at a statement would fill him. 

Ever since waking up from being in a coma, his ability to read had somehow gotten worse.

Now words didn’t even look like words, they just looked like colors on a page with no meaning. Like ink blot stains.

Slowly, Jon’s thoughts wondered to Not Them.

They made for a very strange person.

. . .

Sasha was having a shit day, what with the bugs attacking her friends and all.

“Who’s there?” Sasha called out in the dark break room.

She felt a shiver run down her spine as a woman revealed herself. Someone who shared most of the same features as Sasha, but had abnormally sized limbs and wore a groutfit.

Not them shifted uncomfortably, not looking the stare they were getting from their victim.

They lurched a bit, but Sasha stared at them without a sound or movement.

“Sorry,” they said with a distorted voice “but can you just, be more vocal or expressive or something? I just, it’s tough to know what you’re feeling when you just stare.”

Sasha blinked in surprise. Not them felt the fear in Sasha decreasing.

“Oh come on! Stay afraid! Ahhh!” Not them tried to do a scary face, only to have Sasha raise her eyebrow at them.

“Oh noooo, I messed this up didn’t I?” They wailed, beginning to sob.

Sasha panicked, not believing what was happening.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Sasha tried to comfort it.

“No it isn’t!” They fell to the floor, ugly crying.

Sasha kneeled down on the floor to give their back a pat, but not them latched on for a hug. 

“I was scaring you but I wasn’t sure if you were scared of me or the situation because you weren’t being very vocal and now my victim is comforting me!” They blew their nose into Sasha’s shirt. “I can’t do anything right!”

“Don’t say that. You are a very capable... being.” Sasha said, eyeing the exit.

“No I’m not. See what I’m meant to do is I kill a person and erase their existence almost completely, leaving one person in their life with memories of the original person. But I always fuck it up, like this one time I left a face blind person with the memories and they couldn’t even tell!!” Not them sobbed, Sasha felt she should have been more fearful of this thing.

“Well, that still sounds very scary. And I was quaking in my boots at your entrance. So scary.” Sasha reassured, not them looked up at her.

“Really?” They asked

“Oh definitely.” Sasha nodded.

They finally settled down, wiping the snot from their nose.

“Do you mind I try again?” They asked

“Go for it.” Sasha said, and they dug claws into her back.

“No one will suffer more than you will, no one will remember you as I take your place.” They hissed, voice only wavering slightly.  
. . . 

Jon wondered if being unconfident was just part of the deal with being aligned with the Stranger. 

Jon vaguely wished he was chosen by that instead of the eye, as that would barely affect him at all as opposed to being unable to read.

Jon blinked, realizing he’d been thinking off for the past hour.

“This is bullshit.” Jon said, throwing down the statement.

“No, this is tea.” 

Jon jolted as he noticed Martin behind him, holding two cups of tea.

“Oh, hello Martin. I didn’t notice you there.”

“I figured.” Martin said, handing Jon the tea, looking over his shoulder at the statement.

“Jon,” Martin gave Jon a worried look “where did you get my tax returns?”

Jon groaned, dropping his head into his hands. 

“Right, I won’t ask. This came for you by the way.” Martin said, holding up a letter. “Do you want me to read it for you?”

Jon threw a hand up as a sign to go ahead.

“Please let me kidnap you so I may skin you, if not that is fine too. Please, I really need this win. With love, Nikola Orsinov. PS, say hi to Elias, can I call him Elias, for me.”

“How many does that make now, Martin?” Jon asked

“15.” Martin replied cheerfully, putting it in Nikola’s letter pile. “Maybe one day she’ll have the confidence to come ask in person.”


	4. The Lonely

My mother was a strange woman, a paradox. We lived in a sprawling house, bedrooms kept as far apart as possible and changed often. 

Yet she always sent with the new nannies or tutors notes about how much she loved and cared for me. 

Despite her odd temperament, she sent all four of my siblings away for being...sociable. Trying to instigate games or make friends, or connect with others. 

I had thought they were more like her than I. I was quiet, reserved, liked being to myself. Always wished she’d leave me alone with her odd bursts of affection.

Until one day I did understand. I met a traveler, the kind that used to make me sick to my stomach to see with their smiles and readiness to interact, and I felt something new.

I wanted to take the man to a bar!

Immediately, I wished him gone for making me think such repulsive thoughts. And he was.

When I returned home, I was met by my mother and a small group of stern-faced relatives that liked to come over often but never interacted with anyone when they did. They had a banner up saying “CONGRATULATIONS PETER”, and for once in my life I was excited to be around them. It felt horrible.

It was hard to accept the truth of my family. The truth that a god so perfectly in tune with my heart, also took away what my heart in tune with it. 

And that is my gift to you dearest Jonah. My story. I know you cannot read this, which is why we are so perfect for each-other.

Missing you dearly my snuggle-poo,

Peter Lukas.

. . . 

Peter longingly looked through the fog of the Lonely after sending off another letter. 

He just missed Elias so much.

But no, he needed to be alone and isolated for a bit. 

Peter took out his phone. One call wouldn’t hurt.

After all, he did need to make sure Elias was getting his letters. Sure, he couldn’t read them, but he just missed him so much.

Peter waited for Elias to pick up the phone, he thought about which crew member to sacrifice to the lonely.

. . .

Martin had felt surprisingly more horrible but also more social while working under Peter Lukas.

He felt lonely for sure, but that loneliness just made him want to branch out more and expand his horizons.

“Martin! Martin!” Jon called out.

“He doesn’t want to see you.” Peter said. 

Martin really wished he could see Jon or Peter through the fog of the lonely.

“Martin!” 

“Oh my god Jon, how are you?” Martin asked excitedly.

“Martin we have to get out of here.”

“Oh why? I mean we could just stay here and talk, couldn’t we?“ Martin asked “Have you seen the british version of Hamilton yet? I got an illegal copy off youtube, sooo good.”

“Oh who’s your favorite character?” Peter stepped out of the fog “Mine is Bonnie Prince Charlie. It killed me when Dudley betrayed himOHDAMNIT! Umm pretend you didn’t see me.”

“Not until I get your statement. Because of the beholding I can’t read and you took my designated reader away. So now I’m taking statements in person.”

“No!” Peter seethed, clenching his fists.

“Give me your statement.” Jon didn’t compel Peter in the slightest, not yet.

“Well if you insist!” Peter than went on about his life for many MANY hours.

By the time he had finished he and Martin had played several hundred games of tic-tac-tow in the sand. 

“Alright well thank you for that.” Jon stood up, dusting himself off. “Come on Martin, time to go.”

“But-“

“Martin, look at me. I can’t read without you.”

“Get someone else to do it, or an audio book. Oh or stay here!”

“No, I don’t want anyone else too. Only you read it so dramatically and make it fun, and only you stutter over simple words when you get too into it, and no one else makes comments on the way the avatar should be murdered.” Jon wondered if it was the Lonely compelling him to desire to feel closer to Martin. 

“Martin isn’t going anywhere.” Peter interrupted “But that was adorable, so you know.”

Jon reminded himself he was against murder. 

“Why not?” Martin asked, disliking being excluded from the conversation. 

“I can’t say.”

“Tell me.” Jon said

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No!” Peter’s head exploded.

“You ready to go Martin?” Jon asked

“Sure, just one thing. Do I have your consent to kiss you?”

“What?”

“I’d like to kiss you, I’m feeling a bit more bold than normal so I’m asking you if you would like that too. On the mouth, but the cheek would be fine too.” Martin said 

“I....yes that would be fi-“ Martin latched his mouth onto Jon’s mouth, practically picking him up.

“We should probably get going.” Martin said as he pulled away from Jon. 

“Yeah.” Jon nodded, making a mental note the the Lonely had one of the best odd powers.


	5. The Lightless Flame

“I’ve been looking all day, there are only four statements about the Lightless Flame.” Martin complained. “The best we’re got are your person experience and Gertrude’s notes about Agnes. I also don’t see the connection between the Desolation and-“

“Just trust me, it’s there.” Jon grunted, before reflecting back on his first interaction with an avatar of the Lightless Flame, Jude Perry.

. . . 

Jon was nervous to meet Jude Perry. He was done researching and listening to Martin read him statements. He decided to go get her statement about this himself. 

He needed answers, and this had seemed to be the best way to get it.

Jude Perry found this train of thought hilarious.

“Hello, Archivist.” Jon jumped a bit hearing the voice of Jude Perry from behind.

Jon turned to see a woman his size in a sleeveless leather jacket and jean-shorts standing barely a foot from him.

She stood out in park, as everyone else was bundled up like Jon.

“Yes, hello.” Jon greeted, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets. “I presume you’re Jude Perry?”

“And you’re the archivist.” Jude extended her hand.

“I wanted to ask you a few things.” Jon stated, pointedly not shaking her hand.

Jude laughed. 

“Not going to shake my hand? Try pulling my finger?” She wiggled her eyebrows, playing it off. 

She was secretly glad he did not shake her hand. He would have been in so much pain.

“No, I’m not stupid.” Jon scoffed.

Jude began to think of a metaphor about a lamb walking into a butcher, and made a heart broken sound.

Jon noticed Jude appeared on the verge of tears.

“Why are you-I won’t let you burn me to death because you’re sad!” Jon protested.

“No it’s not that,” Jude sniffled “I just thought of how you were like a lamb going into a butcher shop and thinking of the lamb dying got me hard. It was just a stupid little lamb, it had so much to live for.”

Jude Perry began to sob, thinking how scared the lamb must have been. Poor little lamb. 

Jon shifted awkwardly, not sure what to do.

“It’s okay.” He said, non-convincingly. “Think of wood instead? Or better still, no metaphors.”

Jon missed Martin a lot. Martin was far better at comforting people.

Jude nodded, thinking about wood. Wood probably wasn’t alive to die painfully.

Poor little lamb...

At the end of their interaction, Jon shook Jude Perry’s hand.

She thought it would be funny and feed her patron, plus Elias gave her 100 pounds to burn him.

“Ah! Fuck!” Jon cursed, Jude pulled back quickly.

“Oh shit, are you okay? You’re fine right?” Jude Perry asked, cringing.

Jon looked like he was in so much pain.

. . . .

“I’m telling you, the statement is for the Desolation.” Jon said

“It just seems unlikely.” Martin said

“Just read what we’ve got.” Jon snapped, feeling a bit bad.

. . . 

Agnes had mixed feelings about the cult of the lightless flame.

On one had, they brutally murdered people.

On the other hand, they’ve always been there for her.

They cried with her through every heartbreak and gave her pep talks.

On the other hand, all of them enjoyed the idea of causing suffering to some extent. Their patron simply forced them to feel bad about it.

“Agnes, it’s not that hard. I know you’ll feel bad but that’s what really makes it worth it in the end.” One lightless flame cult member explained “Just don’t think too hard about the people that will miss the person you killed. Or the pets that probably are waiting for them to come home. Or the old woman they definitely take care of, or the....”


End file.
